


The Supernatural Disorder

by OMG_Mangos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4924411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMG_Mangos/pseuds/OMG_Mangos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't scratch the wall."<br/>~ Death, 6x11</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Supernatural Disorder

**Author's note:**

**Okay, first of all: Hello, you, and thanks for giving this a shot!**

**This story is a little, err, different and I initially planned on writing this just for myself. But how selfish would that be, right? Moreover I couldn’t help noticing that there are a lot of other people in this fandom who suffer from several mental and/or physical disorders, too. Or who are just sad from time to time because that’s what makes us human.**

**And anybody who claims they have never at least once imagined their favorite fictional characters by their sides when times got hard is lying. We all have and I’m no exception.  
I mean, how awesome would it be if I had Team Free Will watching over me? Watching over all of us? Hella. **

**So this is basically where I got my idea from. I should probably declare a TRIGGER WARNING, even though there’s a happy ending, I can tell you that much. Because there’s always a good ending, also for you. For ever tear you’ve cried in the past, there’ll be five smiles in the future. I promise.**

**However, there’ll be some aspects of depression, anxiety, insomnia, self hatred/self harm and some other mental disorders together with rape, violence and drug abuse described. Please, if this might be in any way triggering for you, do not read it! I wrote this story to give hope, not to affect peoples’ mood in a bad kind of way.**

**Also, I DO NOT PROMOTE SELF HARM OR OTHER MENTAL DISORDERS IN ANY KIND OF WAY. What I do promote is recovery. Go on, you little fluffy ball of awesome, you can do it!  
What I’d like to add is that this story isn’t just for people who suffer from mental disorders. It’s for everyone who’s ever wished Team Free Will by their sides, for what reason ever. **

**Okay, I think that’s it for now. Have a wonderful day!**

**~ Me**

 

The extraordinarily annoying sound of my alarm clock ungently roused me from what must have been one of the best dreams I had had in months. I didn’t really remember what it was about, but my favorite characters from the TV show ‘Supernatural’ had been in it, I could recollect that much. That’s how I knew it had been a good dream, after all.  
With my eyes still closed, I felt for the alarm clock whose sound seemed to get louder by second and finally found the button that silenced it. I sighed in relief and started to doze off again. I didn’t want to get up. 

What even was the point in getting up? As hard as I tried, I couldn’t find one.  
The things I had tried to forget yesterday evening came rushing into my memories again with the force of a hurricane, making my heart race and my bones echo with pain. I shut my eyes tightly, hoping I would fall asleep quickly, so sleep’s mercy would take all feelings away. 

“G’morning, sunshine!” Dean Winchester’s cheerful voice assailed my ears and I knew I was in dreamland again. Happily, I pulled the blanket tighter around me and waited for the dream to entirely pull me into its welcoming arms. However, that never happened. 

What happened instead was that I felt someone shaking my shoulder and trying to get my blanket away from me while Dean Winchester said: “Hey! You still with us? I said good morning! Time to wake your ass up!” 

My eyes shot open in shock. Since when did dreams get delivered in 4D?  
It was still dark in my room and it took a moment for my eyes to get used to the lightning conditions. I am not exaggerating when I say that nothing from my past life could have prepared me for what I was seeing then. 

Jensen Ackles’ aka Dean Winchester’s candy green eyes stared directly into mine. “Ah, she has awoken!” he exclaimed dramatically and threw his hands in the air.  
I for my part flinched away with a jerk and sought refuge at the other side of my bed from where I looked at the green-eyed man sitting on the edge of the bed with eyes as big as mill wheels. 

He looked slightly amused. “You okay?” he grinned. 

But I couldn’t answer. There wasn’t any air in my lungs that desperately tried to remember how to change exactly that. This, however, was a pretty much hopeless endeavor as my brain was fully consumed by how absolutely perfect the man in front of me was. Yeah, go on and judge me, it’s alright.  
He was _gorgeous._

When I finally had gathered enough of my willpower to allow my body to start with at least some of its mechanisms of vital importance (such as _breathing_ ) again, I eventually whispered “M-Mister Jensen Ackles? What… are you doing in my bedroom?” 

In my imaginations, I had said this sentence a hundred times. Only that the context had been a little… different.  
Now, I just felt like the biggest idiot walking this earth.

He cocked his head aside and made a face at me. “Who? No, sweetheart, my name’s Dean Winchester. I'm Aquarius; I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and frisky women. And I’m here to get your lazy ass out of bed; you’re going to be late!” 

“I see,” I whispered weakly, even though I clearly didn’t see anything but Dean frigging Winchester sitting on my bed for no apparent reason. There were exactly two possible explanations for this: one, I was still dreaming some weird ass dream. Two: I was truly going insane, out of my mind, completely mad, like my parents always said when they thought I wasn’t listening. 

There was a longer pause (at least I think it was pretty long, I had lost every feeling for time) and finally, Dean asked: “So… are you going to get up now? Don’t make me get a wet cloth, that’s so horribly cliché.” 

“I… I don’t understand. Are you… are you real?” I asked intelligently.

“Realer than you’ll wish me to be if you don’t move a little faster. You’re not going to be late for school on your first day, not on my watch!” 

This was even the second shock my poor heart had to handle this morning, even though it wasn’t even half as horrifying as having your favorite fictional character sitting in your bedroom. However, it still was pretty damn terrible. 

My mum and I had moved after my parents split up and now I was supposed to go to another school, far away from home and all that I was used to. Not that it would have been easy for me there, either, but at least I had had friends. Not many, of course, but at least some. 

Now I would be all alone. My mother tried to tell me that I would find new friends as soon as I set foot into the school. She could talk.


End file.
